


and the world has somehow shifted

by blueminecraftsheep



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Autism, Autistic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Autistic Character, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Platonic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, gnc patton, vent fic
Language: Magyar
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueminecraftsheep/pseuds/blueminecraftsheep
Summary: noises hurt his brain and virgil learns a few new things about himself and the logical side.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 216





	and the world has somehow shifted

The light was bright. So bright that, for a moment, Virgil couldn’t register quite why the light was on. If lightbulbs could sunburn, his skin would fry. 

“Virgil, I made pancakes!” Virgil’s mind scanned each and every memory he had. Patton, Patton was the one speaking to him and Patton was wearing -- Virgil lifted his head up slightly, wincing at the bright, bright, brightness -- Patton was wearing a light blue sundress that burned into Virgil’s retinas. This was the feeling of looking directly at the sky in the summer. 

“Mm,” was all Virgil found himself able to get out. 

“Do you feel alright kiddo?” Patton asked. A burning hand was put on Virgil’s forehead, and he was on fire -- figuratively, as Logan would say. Virgil wanted to respond with a yes. He  _ was  _ fine, nothing was abnormal, at least not physically. Even mentally he was at least no worse than usual. But his brain refused to connect to his mouth so he was stuck with his mouth open to collect flies and Patton staring at him. Virgil’s brain provided him with a slightly useful command: Nod. “Do you want me to save you some pancakes?” he asked. Food? Gross. Virgil shook his head, but followed Patton out anyways because there was no point in staying in bed when he was already hopelessly awake.

Hopeless.

“Hello, Virgil!” Roman shouted -- was he shouting? It was loud, that was for sure. Virgil flinched more than appropriate at Roman’s hand waving frantically in front of his face. Virgil’s hand shook at an even faster frequency under the table until he hit one of his chair legs. He let out a pained hiss as three pairs of eyes were attached to him. With the realization that his pain had subsided, Virgil silenced himself as well as he could and pulled his legs up to his chest. Roman continued speaking - the obnoxious bastard. “I have an audition soon!” he exclaimed all too loudly. Now he was definitely yelling.

“ _ We _ have an audition,” Logan corrected. “All of us will play a part in Thomas’s success, even Virgil and myself.” Virgil flinched at his name. “Virgil? You seem to be experiencing some distress.” Virgil almost laughed.  _ Distressed  _ was an understatement. He was destroyed, wrecked, broken, hurt, dissociated, tired, maybe even a little sad, but  _ distressed _ was not on the list. Too vague. It didn’t detail how every syllable, every floorboard creak, and every fidget made his heart pound,  _ beatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeatbeat _ .  _ Distressed  _ didn’t remind him that he was  _ Virgil  _ and he was  _ anxiety  _ and he was a  _ dark side  _ and he was the  _ villain  _ and he didn’t understand why everyone wanted him to fucking  _ talk _ , like he was some baby about to say his first words. Mama or dada, which will it be, and when the baby finally opens its mouth all it can do is  _ scream _ .

Because that was what Virgil wanted to do there at the dinner table - that’s what he did.

He split the tension in the air in half, and then what felt like only a moment later he was in the corner with hands over his ears, eyes squeezed tight so hard it hurt, and a headache that made him feel like any noise would make him drop dead.

There was a presence next to him, and Virgil opened his eyes just enough to see that it was Logan, holding a pair of headphones. He lowered his hands. 

“Ah,” Logan said softly. “You’re...well, here, I suppose. I’ve turned the lights off for you, if that’s-”

“Thank you,” Virgil said in a slightly raspy but thankfully working voice. 

“Patton and Roman are holed up in their rooms, though I have noise cancelling headphones just in case they start being loud once more.” Virgil nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say. Usually  _ those  _ occurred in the private of his own room. “I had a...suspicion.” 

“Oh.”

“Lack of eye contact, self stimulation, heightened anxiety in high sensory environments, special interests, and the occasional semiverbal incident...had I researched your symptoms earlier I would’ve attempted to help you adjust better.”  _ What _ .

“It’s okay, but...I mean, what do you mean symptoms?”

Logan looked incredulous. “Autism,” he said simply. “You display many  _ symptoms _ of autism. Granted we don’t have a licensed professional here to guarantee, but college degrees be damned, I’m sure many coping mechanisms used by people with autism would be of help to you.”

“Thank you Logan.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Virgil. The next time you experience a meltdown or are having sensory issues, I’ll do my best to make you feel comfortable.” Logan smiled as warmly as the logical side could.

“Lo,” Virgil mumbled, a question on his tongue. “How do you know so much about this stuff anyways?”

Logan’s smile widened, like he had just thought of the most amazing joke. “I display my fair share of autistic symptoms as well.” 

And somehow Virgil wasn’t alone anymore. 


End file.
